


The Heart of the World

by Neriad13



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Existential Dread, Gen, wonder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neriad13/pseuds/Neriad13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No way out but through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart of the World

I don't know where I am. In a general sense, it's deep underground in a train station somewhere in Virginia, trapped in endless mazelike corridors as I strain to find a door that would lead me back to daylight. I am trying not to panic. Just stay low to the ground, I tell myself. Take it slow and you'll make it through.

The little pistol in my hand hardly seems adequate to calm my nerves. There are things moving in the darkness just beyond the edges of my vision - quick and violent, their noses searching for my flesh. I duck down in shadows and quiet my breathing. I wish that there was a button I could press that would put a damper on my scent.

One gets close, his nose snorfling the air mere feet away from my hiding place. I wrap my finger around the trigger of my gun and set my jaw. If it happens, it happens. And I aim to go down fighting.

He grumbles something that might have been words once and shuffles away, dragging his twisted, rotten foot behind him.

I slip through the darkness and my hand touches the contours of a cold metal door. I put my shoulder into it and it opens with an ear-splitting screech. I slam it behind me, my heart pounding in my chest, half-expecting to be torn to pieces any second now.

The room is empty. I hear nothing but the steady dripping of a faucet.

It's some sort of service area. There's an old generator up against the wall and a closet full of rusty tools. People had touched these things once. They were all dead now and gone from this world, but the tunnels they dug remained, their sins etched on the skin of the planet, their barbs piercing its flesh.

I creep further on into the claustrophobic darkness, too afraid to turn my light on. I hear noises ahead. There is always something watching.

I'm walking on a metal catwalk, my footsteps making an interesting sound as they strike the ancient scaffolding. My hand touches a roughshod railing and I grip it tightly, following its contours as I navigate the room. A great pit yawns below me, stinking of sewage and stagnant water. There are creatures stirring in its depths, far below. I can hear them shuffling beneath me, gurgling their incomprehensible language to one another.

All of a sudden, the railing ends and I feel myself falling. I regain my balance as fast as it happened and cling to the catwalk for a moment, my heart racing.

As though drawn to the chasm, enticed by my own doom, I find myself peering over the edge. There's some sort of light down there, of a sort that I've never seen before.

I see a being made of green fire. His skin pulses with energy and the very air shimmers around him. Time stops as I watch him shambling about in his vat of sewage, holding court with the lesser lackeys.

I feel as though I have seen something not meant for human eyes, something too sacred to comprehend. I am a trespasser in a world that is no longer my own. My heart filling with terror and wonder, I pull myself back from the abyss and flee.


End file.
